Chapter 6
By the time I’ve found my homeroom I am definitely late. As I open the door, all eyes turn my way. Ignoring them, I face the teacher who is a well-dressed elderly man with thinning grey hair.
“Hi. Sorry I'm late, I got lost.”
"You must be Sophie, I'm Professor Martin. You can call me Professor Martin, or Professor. Not Prof. or Mr. M or some other ridiculous nickname.
“We don't accept tardiness here in Crescentwood Prep, but I’ll let it slide since it's your first day. Don't let it happen again. Now go take your seat so we can continue.”
Looking out over the classroom. I recognise Barrett in the back corner of the room beside another guy who looks like the dark version of his hot twin. Where Barrett has that bright, light surfer boy look, this guy is all brooding and darkness. He's got black hair that's cut short on the sides and longer on top, all of which frames a sharp, cold looking face that has a straight nose and broad chin. Sitting side by side, he looks the complete opposite of Barrett, with his open, smiling face and messy blonde hair that is styled to look like he has just rolled out of bed.
Unfortunately, the only spare seat in the room is in front of the guy sitting beside Barrett. Just my luck.
Sighing, I head towards the open seat. I hadn’t planned on crossing paths with Barrett again so soon. I still don’t understand what he meant by what he said earlier. Ignoring them, I sit down in the chair and pull out a notepad and pen.
Sitting in my seat, waiting for the professor to start, I hear the guy mutter to Barrett, “Man, you said she was a ten but I'm not so sure. She looks anorexic. I need a good set of hips to hold on to when I'm slamming my dick in a chick.”
Barrett, the dickhead, just laughs at his friends’ antics. Bunch of shitheads.
Thankfully the professor starts talking then, cutting off the assholes behind me, and preventing me from getting in trouble for punching them on my first day.
"Alright class, now is the time to focus on any extra-credit work, prepare your college applications, and research what schools you want to apply to. It's never too early to start on these things so get on with it. In silence.”
Having nothing better to do, I kick back and take in the other students in the room. I quickly realise there is a divide between the six students in the back row and the rest of the room. It's not obvious, but every now and again I see students look back at the last row with envious or flirty looks on their faces. Subtly taking in the back row out of the corner of my eye, I don’t see anything that makes these six students stand out. There is an air of confidence around them, as though they are untouchable, however, everyone around here walks around with an abundance of self-assurance. Is that what happens when you have more money than you could hope to spend in a lifetime?
I don't get the opportunity to take in any more before the bell rings and everyone starts to pack up their belongings and shuffle towards the door. Before I can stand up, a shadow looms over my desk and I find myself penned in by the asshole that was sitting behind me, and damn does he smell amazing up close, like cloves and firewood. I have to physically hold myself back from dragging in a deep breath of his sweet smoky scent. He would think I’m unhinged if he caught me smelling him.
Bringing myself back to the current situation, I realise that while I was fantasizing about sniffing him, he has been glaring at me with his cold grey eyes and cruel expression that is certainly anything but friendly.
He drags his eyes slowly down my body while continuing to sneer at me. "I don't know what you and your dad are up to, but you have made a huge mistake moving here, and we are going to do whatever it takes to get rid of you. So don’t get comfortable, we’re coming for you.”
I just glare back at him. I have no idea what he's talking about but I'm sure as shit not going to let this fuckwad intimidate me.
He glares back at me until Barrett interrupts, “Preston, man, come on, we can't be late for Ms. Harrison's class, you know she's a ball-buster when it comes to tardiness.”
With that, Preston storms out of the room, closely followed by Barrett, who turns around to give me a wink before striding through the door and out of view.
Now that all the testosterone has left the room, I can finally breathe again. What was all of that about? It's starting to become clear that the students of Crescentwood Prep know more about Robert and why he's here than I do. They also seem to think I’m in on whatever my father’s plans are. If that’s the case, there is no way I will ever become friends with anyone here. I guess I'm just going to have to find out what Preston and Barrett know about my father.
The late bell rings to remind me I'm supposed to be finding my next class, and once again I'm going to be late. This day just keeps getting better and better.
Pulling out my schedule, I see I have American History next, a subject that I have never in my life studied. Ask me about the Irish Famine or the Troubles of 1969 in Ireland and I could recite what happened off the top of my head, but I haven't the faintest idea about American History. Excellent, this class should be great fun.
Once again arriving late, I can hear the teacher talking but she stops as soon as I open the door.
"About time you joined us. My class starts promptly and I do not appreciate you barging in late and disrupting us all. If chatting with your friends, or checking your insta-book or face-page, or whatever social media nonsense you kids are into these days is more important to you than being on time, then you shouldn't bother showing up at all,” the teacher scolds. “I’m Ms. Harrison, now are you capable of sitting down without causing further disruption or would you rather stay behind for detention after school?”
The rest of the class is sniggering behind their textbooks as I quickly mutter my apologies and scurry towards an empty seat at the far side of the room and hastily collapse down into it. Is this day nearly over? I'm exhausted already and it isn’t even lunchtime yet.
"Alright class, before we were so rudely interrupted,” the teacher says, glaring in my direction as though she hasn’t embarrassed me enough already, “we were talking about the Prohibition Era. Miss Montgomery, when did the Prohibition era begin?” She asks, looking at me expectantly.
"Eh, I... Emm, I’m not sure,” I confess reluctantly.
"Couldn't even hazard a guess, Miss Montgomery?” She questions, annoyed with my lack of knowledge, “Well, how long did the Prohibition era last for?”
“Emm, thirty years?” I completely guess.
Sighing in exasperation, Ms. Harrison, finally coming to the realization that I have absolutely no clue, answers her own questions ”No. The prohibition era spanned a thirteen-year period, from 1920 to 1933, and comprised the period in history when the production, importation, transportation, and sale of alcohol was illegal. I suggest you do some extra studying Miss Montgomery if you want to pass my class.”
With my face bright red, I slouch down in my chair, while the other students murmur to each other and cast glances in my direction. I don't think I’ve ever been so thoroughly embarrassed. Peeking out from under my lashes, I see Preston smirking at me from the other side of the room. Bunch of rich assholes.
I’m half way through the class, lost in my own thoughts and not listening to the teacher, when a note lands on my desk. Quickly snatching it up and leaning back in my chair so I can open it up discreetly underneath the table, I start to read.